


do not mind the loose locks for i have got loose standards

by macdonalds



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breaking and Entering, F/M, apparently rose is kinky, assassin! dave, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macdonalds/pseuds/macdonalds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it is midnight, and you have broken my vase</p>
            </blockquote>





	do not mind the loose locks for i have got loose standards

she walks the streets of new york, the cold winter air biting at her fingers. 

she had forgotton to wear gloves, but she was close to her small apartment anyway.

she took quite a while to find her keys, even though there was nothing but a few tampons, a watermelon flavored gloss, and an ID in her purse.

she sighs the moment she steps in, and kicks her heeled boots off of her already sore feet.

she dismisses the thought of taking out the trash, and unties her deep purple scarf that was carefully wrapped around her neck.

"home sweet home," she says. it was cliche.

she puts her pj's on, a set that consists of lacey underwear and a plain white tshirt.

"nice undies," a very unfamiliar voice says from behind her.

she turns around to see nothing but a lamp.

she laughs at herself, and walks to her kitchen. 

most of the lights are off in the house. 

she mentally tries to recall if she has any milk in her fridge, and stops the questioning as soon as she opens the nearly empty fridge.

she takes the milk out, and gives it a sniff. her face turns sour and she gags as she places the milk carton onto the counter violently.

she eventually passes out on the couch, a few lines of light peek though the blinds.

she is woken to a loud noise. 

she groans and as soon as she gets off of the couch that she already misses sleeping on, she sees a blonde man looking at her, dressed formally.

and to his left, she sees a broken vase.

"you're not very good at stealth, are you?" she questions, only slightly terrified.

he charges at her, and the next thing she feels is the cold hardwood floor.

he is sitting on her abdomen, and she can feel the blood rushing to her head as he punches her in the face so she would stop struggling.

she punches him in the throat without a second of doubt.

he doubles over and deflates, and rose has time to get up and grab something sharp.

but she is stopped in her tracks as the stranger grabs her ankle, dragging her down. 

she screams, but her mouth is covered by a strong hand. no use.

the stranger strangles her, and she eventually loses conciousness.

she wakes up to a headache. 

"went through your shit," the man says.  
"you aint who im supposed to kill," she props herself up on her elbows.

"thats relieving," she says.

"yeah. im kinda glad i dont have to kill you."

"dont have to or dont want to?" she replies, quirking an eyebrow.

"i just told you, you're not the one im supposed to kill."

she tastes metal. 

"my nose is bleeding." she says.

"sorry about that."  
he replaces his position from the couch to the floor. 

he is still close to you, but, distant.

"so... want me to drive you to a hospital?" 

"how gentlemanly." she says, smiling.

he can see the blood paint the shells of her front teeth, and all he can do is look at her in awe.

he takes her to his car, parked like, a million (as he described) meters away from her house.

she sits in the passenger seat and turns the radio on to some indie-folk radio station.

"so uh. i'm glad i broke into your house."

"im not, you broke one of my vases." she said, looking at him with a grin.

"ill pay for it." she nods, at his sentence. 

he makes a positive comment on how nice her music taste is, and she replies with a wide smile that she tries to hide.

"so, i saw a lot of dildos in your room. are you into that kinda kinky shit?" he coyly asks.

"take a left," she says to him, trying to change the subject.

"i know where the hospital is?" he raises an eyebrow.

"clearly you dont. youve taken the wrong road this whole time. left," she adds again.

 

"two lefts? thats ironic."

"dildos arent kinky," she says. he chuckles.

"depends on how you use them," he tries to whisper that statement, as if he had experience.

she laughs and laughs until they are finally at the hospital, and as they wait she laughs once more, because he told her that her looks like spaghetti instead of angel pasta.

a doctor calls out for rose, and the stranger takes a courtesy to go with her. the doctor asks for an explaination, they both look at eachother. the doctor nods.

when the bleeding is stopped, he takes her home and even sweeps up the bits and pieces of the vase residue. she sighs sadly as the pieces are thrown in the trash.

on his way out, he tells her to change the locks.

she nods, and shuts the door. she listens to his footsteps as he leaves.

two mornings later, she find a new vase on the table. there is a yellow sticky note attached to it.

she reads:

'why didn't you change your locks?" and a number lazily scribbled onto it.

she texts the number, and adds him as a contact.

"so you could break in again."


End file.
